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I looked out the front window yesterday, during a dry and relatively still spell, just as the to of them trotted past. Their plumes gleamed as glossily as their black cloaks. One of the men sat up high behind them was wearing a splendid top hat. The sun sparkled on the glass sides and I could just pick out the decorative etching around the edges of the panes. The carriage was followed by two sombre black motors.
I haven't seen quite such a fine cortège in a long while.
I haven't seen quite such a fine cortège in a long while.